


The Satchel Incident

by Chrysanthemum_White



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 17:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10858458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysanthemum_White/pseuds/Chrysanthemum_White
Summary: When Makalov does something skeevy to Marcia, Kieran intervenes.





	The Satchel Incident

A gorgeous day, an open field next to camp, a happy pegasus, and the crisp air of morning. Marcia held out oats for her steed and giggled at the gentle nibbles against her palm.

“Beautiful morning, isn’t it?” She often spoke to her pegasus. She and Apples had been through much together, and Marcia respected the bond they’d formed over the years, both in the Begnion Pegasus Knights under Tanith and in all the adventures since leaving her unit. “Look at that sunrise!”

Apples whinnied in response.

As she did every morning, Marcia prepared for the morning’s flight by double-checking everything in her saddlebags. Standard issue Begnion Pegasus Knight first aid kit, consisting mainly of olivi grass and vulneraries, check. Snacks for both her and Apples, including oats, carrots, and millet, check. Water and all the necessary weaponry for a light ride in case of thirsty ruffians, check and check.

“Oh, crackers. Now where did I put those emergency funds?”

Apples chirped impatiently.

Marcia pat Apples’ flank. She circled around the front of Apples, ducking under a wing as she went, and checked the other saddlebag. Nothing. It was nowhere. Even the extra gold pieces she’d tucked inside a hidden pocket were gone.

Marcia and Apples huffed at the same time, and in the exact same way.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to find it later.” She mounted Apples and Apples reared, flapping exuberant wings. “You ready, Apples? Okay, let’s fly!”

It was a fun flight to be sure, refreshing, just the thing to shake off the remaining grogginess of a fitful night’s sleep, but Marcia spent the entire time wondering where her funds had gone. Did she drop them during a battle? Did bandits make off with it? Was it a simple miscalculation on her part? Maybe she hadn’t actually checked every compartment of her saddlebags. Maybe she misplaced the gold pieces herself and she’d find them somewhere obvious after she landed and got some food in her belly.

Then of course there was the obvious possibility.

Her brother.

Hoping it wasn’t him, she asked around camp. No one knew anything. And Makalov was mysteriously, suspiciously missing, but every once in a while Marcia could feel him ducking around corners to avoid her. Being his sister gave her a highly calibrated detector for that sort of thing.

An unlikely source confirmed her suspicions.

“Makalov?” said Haar. “He ran off earlier mumbling about debt collectors. Though I don’t know why he was so bothered. He had a whole satchel full of gold on him. Why?”

“That shoe-brained moron! I knew it was him! I knew he was up to no good again!”

Haar mumbled a vague apology for Marcia’s current predicament and pointed her in Makalov’s direction. Then he curled into his wyvern’s tail and resumed his nap.

Marcia cornered her brother just as he reached the edge of camp. He was obviously trying to sneak off into town, and each stride let loose a tell-tale clinkering of gold in the satchel at his belt. A new satchel, Marcia noticed. _Her_ new satchel.

“Hey!” Marcia crossed the distance to him in record time, kicking up more earth than a pegasus racing down a stretch of land before takeoff. “Skeezeball! Get back here! Don’t you dare run off when I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

At the sound of his sister’s voice, Makalov halted. It was a matter of instinct. He slowly turned around to face Marcia, hiding the satchel filled with her hard-earned coin by use of a not-so-discreet hand over his hip.

Sothe, who happened to be headed their way down the path, ducked behind a convenient tree to watch the ensuing drama.

“Sis!” Makalov’s voice was too high as he intoned. “My beloved sister, what brings you here to the edge of camp?”

“You know why I’m here.” Marcia stood with one hand on her hip and the other held out towards him expectantly. She waggled her fingers. “Don’t play your lame-o games with me. Give it. I know you have it, so just give it back.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re—”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! Don’t you give me that line! I’ve heard it a million times! If you’re going to be such a skeevy hornbill you could at least come up with new material!”

Sothe snorted and smothered it as quickly as he could with a hand over his mouth.

“Did you hear something?” Makalov turned towards the tree.

“And now he changes the subject! Good gravy, will the wonders never cease?”

“I swear I heard something. Really.”

Marcia made a frustrated noise. It was somewhere between a groan and a scream and it climbed up her throat until the pitch was shrill enough to vibrate the air even though her mouth was closed.

“I had to take it,” blurted Makalov. He gestured frantically, not bothering to hide the satchel anymore. “I had to! I’m in debt! Ike doesn’t pay me! It’s not my fault!”

Sothe peeked around the side of the tree. He squinted at Makalov with obvious distaste.

Marcia didn’t explode at her brother. Rather, she imploded. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and full of layered hatred. “You ruined the Pegasus Knights for me and now you’re going to ruin this too. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

Makalov gawked.

Marcia shuffled away back to camp, and Sothe moved forward.

Marcia took her grievances to Soren. He was about as helpful as she expected.

“If your possessions are going missing then I suggest you keep better track of them.”

“I just told you my funds were stolen. They didn’t grow legs and walk off on their own, and it wasn’t me who misplaced them. Theft is a problem that affects this entire unit.”

“It sounds to me like it mostly affects you.” Soren rolled up a map and gathered his tomes. “Now. If you’ll excuse me, I have an actual matter to attend to.”

Marcia huffed. She knew she should’ve gone to Ike directly. Or at least someone other than Soren.

Kieran, who was headed back to his quarters with a bloodied axe at rest against his shoulder, overheard this exchange, spun back around, and marched back off the way he came.

He found Makalov smack in the middle of town surrounded by a group of individuals who could only be bandits or gamblers, and promptly dragged him back to camp.

“Pardon us,” said Kieran cheerfully to the leader of the gambling pit. “He and I have business.”

“What? No we don’t.” Makalov tried to break free of Kieran’s grip on his elbow, but somehow despite years of fighting experience nothing he tried worked. “Let me go! You don’t understand, I have to pay off my debts to—”

“Makalov, my comrade! It’s my understanding that you have other debts to repay first. A certain pink haired lass is especially cross with you.”

Makalov went a little green.

Kieran dragged Makalov down the road kicking, and the gamblers or bandits or whatever they were didn’t bother trying to get the jump on them. Their mark had been retrieved by Crimean Royal Knight Fifth Platoon Captain Kieran! No one wanted to mess with that. That bloodied axe over Kieran’s shoulder was proof enough of his valor.

When they reached camp, Kieran tossed Makalov to the ground in the middle of the practice field.

“You disgrace this entire company!”

Makalov squirmed. He started crab-walking through the grass away from Kieran. Kieran followed him with heavy stomps that could be heard all through the campsite. More than a few heads turned to see the commotion, Soren among them. Across camp, Apples reared with flapping wings. Marcia took a moment to calm down her pegasus and then spun around towards the practice field, squinting under her hand to see what the heck was going on.

Kieran’s voice was booming from afar, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Oh, crackers. What’s that meathead going on about now?”

“Marcia,” said Sothe, who had mysteriously appeared behind her.

“Barnacles!” Marcia jumped at least three feet, flailing her arms as she let out a squeal of surprise. This of course made Apples rear again, and there was a lot of cooing and placating, and then Marcia turned back towards Sothe and asked why he was there. He held out her satchel blandly.

“Oh.” Marcia took it back from him. “Why do you have this?”

“I stole back it from your stupid brother. He’s not even that good a thief so I don’t know how he got it off your pegasus in the first place.”

“Bribery, no doubt.” She eyeballed Apples, who made a show of being the most innocent pegasus in the history of pegasi. “Still, I believe thanks are in order. Sothe, wasn’t it? Thank you.”

Sothe shrugged.

“You don’t talk to people much, do you?”

“I only talk when I have something to say.”

“Must not ever have much to say then.” Marcia smiled at him indulgently.

Sothe opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it without saying anything.

“Part of being a thief is gathering information, right?” She inched closer, bent down to his level, and whispered conspiratorially. “Do you know what’s going on over there with Kieran?”

Sothe tilted his head at her and then cupped a hand to his ear and listened. Marcia copied his posture. Kieran was annunciating, but the words were still a jumble of syllables from so far away. Marcia and Sothe shared a sidelong glance and a shrug, and then they both made their way over to the commotion.

When they arrived, Kieran had Makalov flipped upside down and was shaking him by the ankles with knightly determination. Makalov swung helplessly, babbling something about not knowing where it went.

“I’m telling you you axe-crazed lunatic, I don’t have it! Someone must’ve stolen it!”

“Silence. I will have none of your excuses.” Kieran shook harder, his frown deepening when all that fell out of Makalov were vulneraries, a singular coin for forging weapons, and little clumps of leathery lint.

Marcia looked at her upturned brother with her lips pulled into her teeth, barely containing a fit of laughter. To see her brother like this, with his hair glossing the ground and his pockets all folded outward dropping loose threads, was the most cathartic thing she’d witnessed in a very long time.

Sothe started to say, “I gave it b—”

“Shh,” said Marcia. “I want to savor this a moment.”

She savored. Sothe stood there awkwardly. She savored some more.

Kieran paused thoughtfully with Makalov still hanging by the ankles and peered around the other side of him. Makalov dangled.

Sothe eyeballed Marcia.

Marcia giggled. “Alright, fine, I’ve had my fun.” She clapped her hands together and the sound echoed through the camp, somehow louder than Kieran’s rantings. “Hey there, big fella! While I appreciate the knightly conquest to retrieve my stolen funds, Sothe here already got them back for me.”

Sothe was nowhere to be found. Kieran raised an eyebrow at Marcia.

“Oh crackers, where did he go? Oh well. Point is, thanks for all the help but Makalov really doesn’t have the money anymore. I do.” She brandished the satchel.

“Ah! Problem solved then.” Kieran grinned and let Makalov slip out of his grip. Makalov landed on his neck with his butt in the air. The posture made it look like he was trying to do a backward roll and failed halfway through. Kieran paid this no mind. “There is no need to thank me, Marcia.” He puffed out his chest. “I could not allow such a disgrace to our company’s good name. Such is the duty of Crimean Royal Knight Fifth Platoon Captain Kieran!”

He spoke with the same conviction and booming voice as always, but Marcia could see the blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears. It nearly matched his crimson hair.

While Makalov skulked away penniless, Marcia moved in and gave Kieran a clap on the back.

“You know something, big fella? You’re not too shabby for a meathead.”

Kieran opened his mouth, poised for either a rebuttal or a thanks, but for once he had no words.


End file.
